Fic: Hidden In The Right Place (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Chapter 3 of 11

“If it was good enough for Crowley, it’s sure as shit good enough for you, Raya, we’ll see you in the morning,” Dean said, slamming the door and locking it.

Sam painted a sigil on it, using a bit of his own blood. He activated it by pressing his palm to the mark. The sigil briefly flared a hot orange then sizzled out as the activation settled into the door’s wood.

“What’s that one do?” Dean asked.

“Oh, it’s a new one I just found, it’s Enochian, see this glyph here?” Sam traced the glyph with one finger just above the door’s surface. “It’s specifically for stopping ‘fallen ones’ aka demons from passing through.”

“Where’d you find something like that?” Dean asked, walking in step with Sam away from the dungeon and toward their rooms..

“Uh, it was in Kevin’s notes, the ones from his translation of the demon tablet,” Sam answered quickly, obviously hoping Dean wouldn’t notice his nervousness.

“Did you find anything else in there I ought to know about?” Dean asked, slowing his pace a little, just to see if Sam was paying attention.

Sam stopped in his tracks and whirled to stare at Dean. “Are you asking if I found something to power up with? Yeah, I did, Dean, Raya wasn’t going to just let you go and I had to be strong enough to—“ Sam said, voice getting that tinge of power again.

“It’s okay, I get it, Sam, believe me I do. But you didn’t make a deal or anything stupid like that did you?” Dean asked, desperate to hear a no that Sam really meant.

“No, and I didn’t drink any demon blood either, thanks for asking but not asking,” Sam said stomping off to his room.

“I’m not worth it, Sammy!” Dean yelled at his brother’s departing back as he disappeared around the corner.

His only answer was a double middle finger salute. Dean sighed and instead of following Sam to continue the fight, he headed to the shower room. It felt like months since he’d been clean or warm or himself.

The shower felt better than anything had ever felt and could ever feel. He was finally clean and warm again. That reminded him of something that had actually felt better, the touches of his brother as he rescued him. That ‘falling face first into the pleasure’ feeling began to spin up inside of him just at the memory of it. He felt himself harden and was momentarily horrified at letting himself go there again. It had been a lot of years hiding this from himself, but it was always there. His obsession with Sam wasn’t just brotherly, Raya had been right, he had always wanted Sam, for many long, lonely years now.

He fell into a fantasy of how Sam would hold him closely under the hot spray of the shower, whispering dark and dirty instructions into his ear. He could feel Sam curling around him, covering him with that giant perfect hard body of his. He would hear Sam say, “Give it up for me Dean, want to see it all, see you come for me, come on give it up, big brother. Yeah, just like that, that’s good, so good.”

And then Dean was coming, hard and long from his toes up to the top of his head, all of him emptying out as he held back a scream of Sam’s name. He hoped that he hadn’t said anything out loud, or that Sam hadn’t picked up psychically or whatever the hell it was he had going on now. He washed himself clean again and shut off the water. Through the steam he could see the guilt in his eyes in the mirror as he shaved his face clean. As long as he kept it to himself he’d live with the guilt, as long as he didn’t take it any further.

He walked down the hallway from the bathroom, wrapped in two towels, looking forward to putting his sweats on and crawling into bed to get some actual sleep.

`~*~’

Sam found himself pacing back and forth in his room, feeling frantic in both his body and mind, feeling like he’d been torn apart and re-made. He didn’t know where to put all of it, what he was feeling. The powers that he’d reawakened were taking hold now, and he remembered in flashes how he’d felt when he’d been on the demon blood. This was different though. This was all him. And partly Dean too of course.

Dean—it all came back to him, it always did, always had. He’d made himself into something that Dean could tolerate over all their years together, a palatable version of the little brother. But they were so much more, could be so much more, could be everything to each other, like they were meant to be. He felt the echo of need and desire he had felt from Dean when they’d touched each other tonight. That dark-eyed look Dean had given him in the car. If Raya hadn’t been with them, he’d have made Dean pull over and taken him then and there.

He pictured it, curling up behind Dean, pressing him into something hard and slick, like the car, no…the tiles of the shower he was in right now. The water would be running over his skin, making it sleek and beautiful. He could feel his hands moving over Dean’s body, exploring all the curves and planes of it. Familiar, but still new in this new context, he could hear the noises Dean would make, how he would squirm away under his hands but still press back into him. Offering everything, they could have it all. He just needed to say it to him, say the words, ask for it, tell Dean he wanted it too.

Sam vaguely realized that he was not making all of this up, Dean was stroking himself hard and fast in the shower, hearing him, thinking about him, feeling him too. He projected himself outward even harder and took himself in hand, stroking along in time with Dean. He could hear the words that Dean was holding back from speaking aloud, they brought him over the edge in a sudden rush. “Need it, Sammy. Want it so much, give it to me, baby brother. Please, want to feel it all over me. C’mon.”

Sam came back to himself, lying on his bed, hand in his pants with come cooling over his fingers. He cleaned himself up and without stopping himself this time, he made his way to Dean’s room. He took up the pacing again, worried that they weren’t really ready to be this to each other. And they had to pull back enough to focus on the whole trials thing with Raya. As he paced, waiting for Dean to come back, he talked himself out of asking for everything then and there that night. He’d only give Dean an outline of how the tablet had described how they had to balance each other. But he wouldn’t ask for all of it. He promised himself that he would only ask for the bare minimum at this point. They would have time for the rest of it—soon.

As he paced, Sam began to worry that Dean wouldn’t want him around because of the whole powers thing. He might not believe him about them being described in the tablets as a necessary tool for them to win, if they did it together. There was a possibility he’d want to hunt him again. He started to leave then, because as much as he needed Dean in that moment, he knew he wouldn’t survive rejection or worse. As powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough for that.

`~*~’

Dean opened the door to his room, and almost dropped the towel he had wrapped around his waist in surprise to see Sam pacing a track into his shag rug.

He clutched the towel and put what he’d just finished doing in the shower as far back in his mind as he could push it. “What’s up?”

Sam covered his face with his hands, then ran them both through his hair, making it fluff out in a ridiculously beautiful shaggy fall. “She had you for weeks, Dean. I had nothing left to do, I had no choice, I was going out of my mi—,” Sam said, still pacing in front of Dean’s sink.

Dean interrupted him by pulling him into a hug. “Thanks for getting me out of there, Sammy. I knew you’d come for me, even though she made me forget your name, I still knew you’d be coming,” Dean mumbled into Sam’s chest. Sam’s arms tightened around him at those words. Dean felt his body begin to react again and quickly pushed himself away before Sam could notice. Dean wasn’t ready to have that conversation, and he might never be ready. It might mean the end of them and he couldn’t risk that now.

He busied himself with finding something warm to change into, dropping his towel on the floor. He ignored the small noise Sam made behind him, they had seen each other naked lots of times, there wasn’t anything different going on here. (Right?)

“What did you do though, Sammy? Why are you like this now?” Dean asked stepping into his sweats which felt like armor between them in this moment.

“I’ve always been this, Dean. It was just hidden, I hoped it was still there, but I wasn’t sure I could find it again. I’d worked so hard for so long not to be…become this, a monster. Because of—well, you know,” Sam said.

“Because of me? Back when you were on the demon blood, me saying you were a monster I would have hunted, and all of that nonsense?” Dean asked.

Sam looked all around the room, eyes frantically moving, blinking away tears until he took a deep breath, closed them for a moment. He opened them and his eyes met Dean’s. “Yeah, all that, and I wasn’t sure if I could control it by myself once I started again.”

“And can you?” Dean asked, pulling a worn t-shirt over his head, and adding a sweatshirt since he still couldn’t get warm enough.

“Just barely on my own so far, and according to Kevin’s translation, it was all planned out for a long time. I’m even mentioned in there, in the tablets. I’m the ‘Coredazodizoda Erm A Canilu Ge Totza Ozien’ which translates to ‘Man With The Blood Not His Own.’”

Dean blinked slowly, trying to take in the mind-blowing detail that his brother was specifically named in one of God’s own tablets. “Holy crap, you’re kidding.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to not visibly freak out.

“Nope, but hold on, it gets even better because you’re in there too, Dean. Once I saw that I knew it’d be okay to power-up to come save you.”

“You’re kidding, right, how the hell am I in the freaking tablet?” Dean asked, wincing at how frantic his own voice sounded.

“There’s a passage describing who the brother and protector of ‘Man With The Blood Not His Own’ is. It’s a phrase: ‘Esiasch Blans Napta Ugear Tranan,’ which means: his brother, his shelter, his sword, his strength, and his marrow. And as far as I’m concerned that’s you, Dean.”

“I don’t know what to say to all that,” Dean said quietly, he felt his heart begin to expand with the possibility of what that could mean for them.

“Just accept that it’s true and that it’s about you, that’s all I want at this point,” Sam said.

Dean nodded and grimaced at the little brother tone in Sam’s voice. “Yeah, okay, sure it’s all true, whatever. But what does it mean for what you can do now?”

“It’s like I’m a battery that runs out, but can’t get past a certain charge point when I recharge. As long as you’re around, I can’t get too over powered-up and you can help me recharge when I do things like I did tonight.”

“Try me, I was just chained up for a couple of weeks to a cat statue in my underwear without my own mind. Let’s just say that I’m open to new thoughts,” Dean said with a smirk he hoped covered up his eagerness to hear what Sam would say next.

“Basically it’s a deeper connection between us. Deeper than we’ve had before. It’s actually always kind of been there, we just weren’t consciously using it and now we are…I mean, I am—using it that is.”

“How deep are we talking?” Dean asked, even more worried that this meant Sam knew, he had to know if they were connected in this new way.

“Soul-level connection,” Sam said.

“Is this just a part of that whole soulmate thing?” Dean asked, realizing they’d never followed that up at all, never researched it or ever talked about it.

“Yeah, part of it is,” Sam said.

“What’s the rest then?” Dean asked, suddenly wondering just how much soulmate research Sam had done without telling him, because of course his nerdy brother had.

“It’s our feelings, our memories, experiences, all that stuff, not something I can really put a name to,” Sam said.

“Now that’s really something unusual,” Dean joked.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. “So…because of all this, I need to ask you for something that might seem kinda weird,” Sam said, hesitating over almost every single word.

“Anything,” Dean said without a bit of hesitation. “I owe you for saving me. And weird is kinda in the job description.”

“I need to sleep with you in the same bed—just sleeping, nothing else. The physical closeness will help me recharge overnight and I’m going to need it to deal with Raya tomorrow.”

“We talking skin to skin or what? I mean usually I’d want dinner or something first,” Dean joked to hide that his entire body felt like it was blushing at the very idea.

“Jesus, Dean, never mind, sorry I asked,” Sam said turning around to slump against the door.

“Hey, hey, c’mon, you know I was just kidding, get in here,” Dean said, flipping the covers back. “Good thing I got a bigger sized bed when I got this memory foam mattress.”

They settled in bed with the covers pulled up to their chins, back to back, each trying to leave a space between them. Dean tried to remember the last time they’d had to share a bed as grown men. Maybe the one time when Dad had been there. That was a lifetime ago, this was something new and kind of surprisingly wonderful in an inevitable sort of way.

“Me too, Sammy,” Dean said, trying and failing to calm his heart rate which was still racing. Having Sam so close was tantalizing after all the talk about connection, plus what he’d just done in the shower. He tried harder to not think about that, to quiet his mind and be thankful that he was back and that Sam was mostly okay.